


stripped down to the bone

by spangel



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Although spoilers: there's nothing explicit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spangel/pseuds/spangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike feels like an apocalypse all over your skin. Two bodies, four hands, that's how the end begins, <i>your</i> end, the end of <i>your</i> world. His world spins on without you, and you can't take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stripped down to the bone

1\. Spike is rocking against you and quivering, and you are thinking about hurting him - that's how it starts, he is underneath you and you close your eyes and see: his blood, his hands, his fingers. His screaming plays on repeat in your head. It is rough and you are  _furious_ because he made you feel something and you're shaking shaking shaking and he is smiling, lips curling upward, and you are _  
_

not strong enough, you are

crumbling for him, you are

screaming  _Spike Spike Spike,_ you are _  
_

breaking down,

breaking.

 

"You can't do that," you hiss, "you  _can't_ _do that_ to me. Never do that again." He laughs. He  _laughs,_ and he says, "Oh, really?" like it's a challenge, like he wants to hurt you again and again and again because he knows that you'll never turn away, not from him, not from  _this,_ because you love it too much, or because you need it, crave it, (because you are starving) (he  _knows_ that, he knows you are starving for him and he's underneath you again and he's begging you and  _okay._ Okay.  _Fine._ Just make him  _shut up.)_

 

 

                                          You are grasping his hands,

                                                                                          shattering his fingers, entwining them with your own, you are

                                                                                                                                                                                                     holding him against you, or: he's  _allowing_ you to put your hands in his hair. You can't tell.

        You can never tell.

* * *

 

 

2\.  "C'mon, Angel," he whines, "it'll be just like old times, yeah? Just this once," and he kisses you and his hands wander and you want to whisper  _Get away from me, Spike, never again,_ but he is  _here_ and he is all you've got, so you kiss back and tell him  _it's never 'just this once', you always come back for more._ _  
_

"You never seem to mind," he says, into your neck.

 

 "You don't really pay attention to me. All you care about is yourself, Spike."

"Yeah, you're right. Can't argue with that."

You push him onto the floor - your forearm is tight around his ribs now, you tell him, "But you're right. I don't mind. I actually kind of enjoy this." 

 

Spike feels like an apocalypse all over your skin. Two bodies, four hands, that's how the end begins,  _your_ end, the end of  _your_ world. His world spins on without you, and you can't take it.

 

The sun is coming up and he looks so  _beautiful_ underneath the light, just for you,  _just for you._

 

He is speechless. Maybe it's because of you, or maybe it's because of what you said, or maybe it's because of the noises he's making, soft, silent moans.

 

Sometimes, it's okay.

 

* * *

 

 

3\.  It is soft and gentle and you're almost angry, but you're never rough, you are holding him and you are whispering  _you're being so good for me._

 

The absence of hatred is like a fire, charring up your flesh.

He doesn't seem to mind. It's not hurting him 

so why is it hurting you?

You're the

first one

to say it:

_I love you._

 

 _I love you_ and he's kissing you and he's kissing you and he says  _I love you, too,_ and it's almost a surprise,  _almost._ He doesn't walk away and he doesn't yell or roll his eyes and he  _loves you_ and you're smiling and you're not angry, you're  _not angry._

 

It is soft and gentle and it's you, fading into him,  fading into the light, fading into the dirt.

 

It is soft and gentle and you can't fight this off - the apocalypse with bones and a body is in love with you but in a weird, twisted way, and you're more than okay, you are

laughing, you are

waiting for

the end.

 

                                                                          

**Author's Note:**

> "Let me see you stripped down to the bone  
> Let me hear you crying  
> Just for me" - _Stripped_ , Depeche Mode.
> 
> I hope the formatting works. Please tell me if it doesn't. Thanks for reading!! :)


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